


christmas eve

by xelin



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xelin/pseuds/xelin
Summary: Yuchan is Sehyoon's best friend. Or, at least, he was. Somewhere between the Christmas Eves, the hot chocolates, the hand holding–Sehyoon found himself a little lost.





	christmas eve

**Author's Note:**

> gross sehchan christmas fluff for your soul  
> this is my december fic, take it and run before i touch it with my angst writing hands  
> i'm uploading this at 4am and my beta is asleep (the snake) so this might have Mistakes  
> n happy holidays or whatever ♥️

Yuchan has been Sehyoon's best friend for most of his life.

When he was younger, Sehyoon had kept to himself, even more so than he does now. Not for any particular reason, really. He just enjoyed the peace of being huddled in the school library, avidly turning pages, or sitting in the corner of the playground, sharing crumbs of his food with the ants living beneath the bricks. Nobody had particularly wanted to hang around with him anyway. As far as the other kids were concerned, he was creepy, and that was perfectly fine with him.

Sehyoon makes his first friend when he's six years old, on the last day before Winter break.

“Give him back!” a voice yells. Sehyoon frowns at the distraction, glancing up from his sketchbook. It's cold, and the fingers he has wrapped around his pencil have turned pink. By the bicycle shed, a kid is standing resolutely, tears pricking his eyes. Two taller kids are watching him with barely concealed amusement, one holding what looks to be some kind of pink stuffed toy.

“Aren’t you embarrassed to have such a girly toy?” one of the tall kids says, waving it about.

“He's not girly! Give him back!” The smaller kid is pushed over, back hitting the frosted concrete. Sehyoon's frown deepens.

He kind of wants to finish this drawing before his dad comes to get him, but he guesses it'll have to wait. Shoving his sketchbook back in his bag, Sehyoon wanders over to the commotion.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” he asks, one hand gripping his bag strap tightly. The kids are even taller up close. He wonders if they're older. He doesn't recognise them.

“Don't get involved,” one of them says.

Sehyoon ignores the suggestion. “Why don't you just give him his toy back?”

“Stay out of this,” the other warns. Sehyoon notices that the kid on the ground is sniffling now, tucking his hands into his sweater sleeves, and moves to stand in front of him. Sehyoon doesn't understand why people would want to hurt each other.

“You should really give it back,” he repeats. The one holding the toy drops it on the ground. Sehyoon feels himself stiffen when the kids walk towards him.

Sehyoon notices the cold seeping from the ground into his jacket. It starts to bother him, so he sits up.

The kid is crying next to him, and has been for a few minutes now. On his other side, the stuffed toy is lying on the ground. He picks it up, and brushes off some of the frost. It's a dog.

“This is yours,” he says, holding it out to the kid. They sniffle a little more, but stop crying almost instantly, reaching out to take the toy. His eyes shift to Sehyoon, still red-rimmed from the tears, but now also wide and sparkling.

“You're so brave!” he gasps. “You weren't scared of them at all!” He leans forward, hand reaching out and stopping just before Sehyoon's face. “Does your eye hurt?”

Sehyoon presses icy fingers to his eye. It hurts a lot. “Not really,” he says.

“Wow! You're amazing.” He scrunches up his nose. “Everyone is really mean about you, but you're so nice.” Almost instantly, his face switches back into a smile. “What's your name?”

“I'm Sehyoon.”

“I'm Yuchan!” the kid says, beaming. He holds out a hand. “We should be friends.”

Over Winter break, Yuchan invites Sehyoon to his house.

“Mom!” he calls, taking one of Sehyoon's hands, numbed from the cold, and pulling him inside. “Mom, this is the friend that got punched for me!”

“Oh my god,” his mom says.

“What do you like to watch?” Yuchan asks. They're wrapped up in a navy blue blanket, hands circling mugs of hot chocolate. Yuchan has his legs strewn over Sehyoon's, personal space completely nonexistent. Sehyoon isn't used to it, but he doesn't mind. It's nice.

“Nature documentaries,” he replies. Yuchan stares at the TV remote, then at Sehyoon.

“What?” he says. “I've never seen one of those. Can you show me?”

Sehyoon browses, and eventually finds one on whales he's seen before. Yuchan is beyond fascinated, despite not even remotely listening to the narration, and constantly asks Sehyoon questions on what the different animals are called. The hot chocolate is forgotten, growing lukewarm in their hands.

“My mom knitted you a Christmas sweater,” Yuchan says, holding it up. It's dark green, white wool formed into little snowflakes across the midriff. “Look, we match now.” He gestures to his own knitted sweater, a bright red.

It's Christmas Eve, and they're baking cookies.

(Sehyoon is following the recipe his mom gave him, whilst Yuchan dances across the kitchen floor in his socks to overplayed Christmas songs. Occasionally, Sehyoon calls him over to do the fun parts, like mixing and using the cookie cutters.)

Sehyoon pulls off his hoodie and puts the sweater on instead. “Tell her thank you,” he says, tucking his fingers into the warm wool.

“Christmas Eve is like, our thing now,” Yuchan says later, sitting on the doorstep with Sehyoon while they wait for him to be picked up. “We have to hang out like this every year. Promise?”

He holds out his little finger for a pinky promise. Sehyoon hooks their little fingers together to return the promise, but, upon feeling how cold his finger is, Yuchan laces their hands together and tucks them into his pocket, beaming.

A promise was a promise. Ten years later, they had yet to break tradition.

“I think I want a boyfriend,” Yuchan says thoughtfully, eyes glued to the TV screen. It was playing some shitty Christmas romcom.

Sehyoon chokes on his hot chocolate, almost knocking Yuchan off the couch from where his feet are tucked beneath Sehyoon's thighs for warmth.

“What? That's not that weird, is it? I'm almost seventeen!” Yuchan protests, kicking a foot into Sehyoon's rib cage.

“No, that's not weird. You just surprised me,” he coughs, depositing his mug safely on the coffee table. “Any specific reason why, or…?”

Yuchan shrugs, eyes back on the screen. “I don't know. I'd just like to try it, I guess.”

“Oh,” Sehyoon says intelligently. “That's fair.”

They don't bring it up again.

Almost a year later, Yuchan gets a boyfriend.

He sends Sehyoon an incomprehensible stream of  _ hejmskkfjsnxksj!!!!!!!!!! _ texts, which he can't fully decipher but has learnt to write off as Yuchan speak. Then, another text.

_ the boy from starbucks asked me out _

Sehyoon reads the text. Blinks. Reads it again. Around a week ago, they'd gone to Starbucks. One of the guys from Yuchan's chemistry class was working there part-time, and Yuchan had turned into some kind of shy, blubbering mess that Sehyoon didn't know how to handle. Yuchan had mentioned maybe going back to see him again, but aside from that – nothing. So Sehyoon is caught a little off guard, to say the least.

Yuchan introduces his boyfriend to Sehyoon pretty early. He refers to Sehyoon as his 'absolute all-time best friend’, making him slightly embarrassed. Yuchan's boyfriend is called Junyoung. He's tall, with pretty eyes and a really warm smile. Yuchan seems to be seeking Sehyoon's approval, so later on that day, he whispers, “He seems really nice,” into Yuchan's ear.

Sehyoon has never been jealous. Even when he had no friends, he was okay with it, and it didn't particularly bother him.

He has an unsettling feeling in his stomach, though, and his tea tastes really bitter all of a sudden.

He doesn't want to call it jealousy. Yuchan isn't his. Yuchan can do what he likes. Whatever makes him happy.

Sehyoon chews his lip in silence, staring at the text message.

_ junyoung wants to hang out with me tomorrow ;; you don't mind, right? _

He doesn't mind. Yuchan can cancel plans whenever he wants. He isn't obligated to spend time with Sehyoon.

Still, a voice in the back of Sehyoon's mind reminds him that this has been happening a lot lately. That Yuchan has found someone better to spend his time with.

Maybe he's a little jealous.

Three months later and it's December. Sehyoon hasn't spent time with Yuchan in a while; a stark contrast to pre-Junyoung era, wherein they'd find time for one another every single day. It's an empty feeling, Sehyoon thinks.

He's staring at his sketchbook, brain blanking out whenever he goes to draw. His mind's filled with Yuchan's bright eyes and unnecessarily wide smile; the warmth in his fingers as he wraps them around Sehyoon's cold ones; the way he laughs at every little thing like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard of. For a split second, Sehyoon wonders if Yuchan will spend Christmas Eve with him this year, or if he'll break their little tradition.

A wet drop soaks into the paper of his sketchbook. Sehyoon can't remember the last time he cried.

He feels like an idiot.

Sehyoon's phone buzzes on his desk.

_ open the door u fool _

He stares at the text. Double checks the contact name. Stares a little more.

Then proceeds to bolt down the stairs at the speed of light.

When he opens the door, Yuchan is grinning at him and holding up two sweaters, one dark green and one bright red. “Look! My mom knitted some new ones! I told her to make them the same as the– Are you crying?” He stops, looks bewildered.

“No,” Sehyoon chokes out, violently dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I didn't know you could cry? Are you okay? Hey, what's wrong?” Yuchan steps into the house, shuffling Sehyoon backwards in order to shut the door behind them. He wipes the tears off of Sehyoon's cheeks with delicate fingers, and then holds his face with both hands, sweaters slung over one arm.

“What's wrong?” he repeats.

“You didn't say anything. I thought you wouldn't come.”

Yuchan's eyes widen a fraction, and then he suddenly looks on the verge of crying himself. Out of nowhere, he flings himself into Sehyoon full force, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I'm sorry,” he says, voice muffled by Sehyoon's hoodie. “I'm so sorry, you're my best friend, and I left you behind, I–”

“It's okay,” Sehyoon tells him, tucking his own arms behind the other's back. He clings tightly, a little afraid of letting go. “I'm not mad at you.”

When they're all cried out and walk into the kitchen to make hot chocolate, Sehyoon's parents are delighted to see Yuchan. They pepper him with affection and questions like they always have, and, for a moment, it's like the past few months never happened.

Later, Yuchan helps Sehyoon put his sweater on, and laces their hands together under the blankets before they rewatch Sehyoon's Planet Earth series.

Sehyoon's phone rings. It's 3am.

He would turn it off, but it's playing Thanks by Seventeen, which Yuchan had avidly set as his own ringtone in Sehyoon's phone the moment it was released. So, instead, he answers the call.

“Chan?” he mumbles, half-asleep.

He hears the sound of sniffling and it jolts him awake, sitting up in bed. He's already grabbing clothes from the floor and putting them on as he asks, “What's wrong?”

“Junyoung– Broke up–” Yuchan begins, then dissipates into vague tear-sodden noises.

“Hey, deep breath, okay? Can you come to the park?” Sehyoon asks, slipping on a pair of shoes.

The moment he hears a semi-coherent sound of agreement, he's out of the door.

It's January, so the air is still ice cold.

Sehyoon shoves his hands into his pockets, painfully aware that he has forgotten to take a scarf, gloves, or even a coat. When he reaches the park, Yuchan is already seated on a swing, hands curled together in his lap. Sehyoon forgets about the cold.

“Chan,” Sehyoon calls, dashing over. Yuchan isn't crying anymore, but his eyes glisten under the street lamps, and his cheeks still look damp. Sehyoon holds his arms out like an offering, and Yuchan tugs him close, burying his face in his friend's hoodie.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sehyoon questions. He runs a hand through Yuchan's hair in a way that he hopes is comforting, leaning down to press his lips to the other's head. Yuchan doesn't reply, so he assumes it's a no, and instead focuses on keeping the other close and warm.

Suddenly, Yuchan stiffens beneath him, and Sehyoon pulls away.

“You okay?” he asks, words laced with concern.

Yuchan is quiet, eyes focused as they wander Sehyoon's face, searching. After several moments, the intensity of his gaze dies down, and he tugs Sehyoon back towards him.

He doesn't say anything on the matter, so Sehyoon chooses not to bring it up.

Yuchan is watching his phone while he shoves carrot sticks into his mouth absentmindedly.

“Who you talking to?” Sehyoon asks conversationally, focusing on twisting the straw in his milkshake.

“Junyoung,” Yuchan replies.

Sehyoon freezes, and badly attempts to cover it up. “Oh?”

“Yeah. We talked it out more. I wasn't really thinking straight yesterday.” Yuchan shoves another carrot stick into his mouth, and talks around it messily. “He was right. I don't blame him. We're still friends.” He looks up, making eye contact with the other. There's a second of pause, and then he presents one of his blinding smiles. Sehyoon softens.

“I'm glad you're okay,” he says, watching Yuchan's cheeks dust pink and his grin widen.

Sehyoon finds that Yuchan is far more excited about university than him.

“We're in freshman dorms of five! That means we get to meet new people, and make new friends!” he says cheerfully, half way through chewing a mouthful of cheerios.

Sehyoon just hums in response, staring into his black coffee. What if they end up with people they can't stand? What if the people don't like him? What if–

“Plus we can finally live in the same space, and don't have to run ten minutes to see each other,” Yuchan continues. He puts his spoon back in his bowl, and pushes it towards Sehyoon. “Eat something. Coffee isn't breakfast.”

Sehyoon's brain goes a little fuzzy at that.

Fortunately, Sehyoon's roommate fears are destroyed instantly upon meeting the students they'll be living with. They all major in something creative like Sehyoon, but Yuchan, studying veterinary medicine, insists he is fine with being the brains in the dorm.

(He cuts the power twice in the first week, and everyone officially redacts this title from him.)

Junhee is kind of messy, Donghun only cooks his meals between 2am and 4am, and Byeongkwan sings too loudly in the shower, but they're okay. Sehyoon likes them, even. Sometimes, they all watch movies together after their classes, and Yuchan falls asleep with his head on Sehyoon's shoulder.

When Yuchan asks them about Christmas, they all seem beyond enthusiastic about celebrating it in the dorm before they each go to their respective families. Hence: chaos.

Yuchan finds a kindred spirit in Byeongkwan, for they are both dancing across the laminate floor to Mariah Carey whilst the other three decorate. Donghun, nominated tallest-after-Yuchan, is left to drape tinsel from every unreachable surface, whilst Junhee figures out their cheap, plastic tree. Sehyoon is perfectly happily hanging up silly Christmas ornaments on the cupboard handles when Yuchan drags him across the floor by his arm.

“Stop being boring, join the fun,” he tells him, proceeding to push him so that he slides ungracefully in his socks and nearly falls head-first into Byeongkwan.

“Decorating was your idea in the first place,” Sehyoon says, but makes a run for Yuchan anyway, accepting battle. Amidst the childish laughing, Yuchan presses a messy kiss to Sehyoon's cheek, eyes glittering like a hundred fairy lights, and Byeongkwan covers them with a scattered handful of glitter.

(“I hope you're happy,” Junhee says later, pointing an accusatory finger at Byeongkwan. “We're never getting that out of the floorboards.")

One night, Sehyoon is reading a PDF of a book on his phone, the screen illuminating his face and pillow in a hue of silver. He hears a shuffle, and then the door opens.

He glances up, and is met with the sight of Yuchan flinging back his duvet.

“Move over,” he says. Sehyoon doesn't. Either way, Yuchan forces himself into the space and tucks his head beneath Sehyoon's chin, pulling the duvet back up. Almost in fear of destroying whatever peace this is, Sehyoon doesn't dare ask what's going on.

Instead, he whispers, “Do you need me to turn my phone off?”

“It's fine,” Yuchan whispers back, breath warm against Sehyoon's neck.

He turns his phone off anyway, and leaves it beside the pillow.

An indefinite amount of time later, Yuchan's sleepy voice drifts to his ears.

“Junyoung thought I liked someone else,” he mumbles.

Half-asleep, Sehyoon just hums in response.

“Tell your boyfriend to stop taking my cereal,” Byeongkwan says the next morning. Sehyoon looks at him. Processes his words.

“What?”

“I said, he's taking my cereal. I don't know if he thinks I don't notice, but–”

“No, I mean…” Sehyoon gestures into thin air. “Yuchan isn’t my boyfriend.”

“You mean you aren't dating?” Byeongkwan asks, looking at him incredulously. “Tell me you're joking.”

“No…?” Sehyoon says slowly, unfamiliar with the feeling of heat creeping into his cheeks. He presses his hands against them to try and cool his face down.

“This is ridiculous,” Byeongkwan says, throwing his hands up.

“What do you mean?” Sehyoon questions, but Byeongkwan doesn't say anything more, and he's too embarrassed to ask again.

The walk from Sehyoon's home to that of Yuchan’s is ingrained into his brain from twelve years of childhood nonsense. His shoes crunch through snow with every step, and his face feels as though it's gone entirely numb. The sweater that Yuchan's mom had knitted was warm, but Sehyoon wishes he'd worn another layer.

As per usual, he texts Yuchan when he arrives instead of knocking. The door flings open in seconds, and a beaming smile greets him.

“It's colder this year,” Yuchan says as they're walking up the stairs to his room. Sehyoon makes a noise of agreement, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, I can't feel my hands.”

“You can never feel your hands,” Yuchan laughs, falling to a stop in his doorway. He takes Sehyoon's hands in his, and Sehyoon is once again reminded of how much warmth resides in Yuchan's fingertips.

“My body just can't store heat,” Sehyoon defends. He tightens his hold on Yuchan's hands. “I might be getting hypothermia, I can't feel my lips at all.”

It happens rather quickly.

In a split second, Yuchan pulls on Sehyoon's hands, tugging him forward a little, and leans over to quickly press their lips together. It's short, sudden, and all that Sehyoon's brain helpfully supplies is  _ warm _ .

“Can you feel them now?” Yuchan asks, voice a tad quieter, as though in trepidation of breaking the moment. His eyes are wide, face visibly rosy, corners of his mouth upturned in a nervous attempt at a smile.

Sehyoon's throat decides that it doesn't want to function, and words don't form. Instead, he nods extremely enthusiastically, and Yuchan bursts out laughing.

Later, Yuchan tangles their legs together and joins their hands beneath the blanket, as he always did. Except this time, the points of contact almost make Sehyoon light-headed with nerves, and he can hardly focus on the stupid romcom playing on the TV.

(“Honestly, I was debating doing some kind of cliché mistletoe thing,” Yuchan admits. “But you said the whole cold lips stuff and I panicked and just went for it.”

“You're embarrassing,” Sehyoon tells him.)

Maybe Yuchan has been a little more than a best friend for a while now.


End file.
